Those That Belong to the Emperor
by SevenSisters
Summary: A mystical tale of one girl's journey through one of the most tumultuous times in magical history...yeah right. But I will have your daily dose of drama, comedy, romance...it's a slow burner.
1. Those That Have Broken the Flower Vase

A last minute walk through of the castle corridors was expected, reasonably later, following the prefects' checks.

 _Just to make sure_

She enjoyed the solitude, yes, but you could find the same thing late at night in the library with only a smattering of ill-prepared students rushing to finish an assignment with absolutely no intention of fraternizing with one another. Or even mid-day in your own dormitory when everyone else was bustling outside to get to their destinations: their classes, their meetings, their practices. It didn't have to come after hours. Especially not in the girls' lavatory on the first floor. With well over two decades glossing over the tragedy that once occurred in the cavernous space, it unfortunately became a hot spot for off-the-grid activities. From trying to coerce spirits to snogging. The first floor never ceased to yield an adventure or two.

And she couldn't wait for it to become the responsibility of some other prefect in a week's time.

The light began to dim as she approached the now-abandoned space that usually relied on natural light during the day. Sure enough, the closer she got to the bathroom, the more audible the whispers became.

Flicking her wand, blue-tinged light ignited at the tip as she passed the threshold into the bathroom. More hushed whispers, more shuffling of feet. Erratic. They knew she was there.

"Wh-" Before she could even get a word out, the 3 younger students that had been mucking about in the space rushed past her, but not before one of them bumped into what she guessed was a sink, hard enough to bust something. Cold water began to shoot out full force before spluttering to a pathetic dribble, partially soaking the right side of her body, if not more. She could hear the excited laughter of the 3 escaped students waver as they disappeared in lieu of their accidental savior.

Only one more week.

 _One more week_. She mentally repeated to herself as she hastened her checks, making deliberate cuts in order to get back to her room faster to turn in for the night.

But not before passing a couple of other seventh years whom she noticed for petty infractions that dated as far back to the boat rides to the castle during their first year. Black and Potter. Inseparable. A brand, practically.

It was past curfew and they were the ones giving her a look. She opened her mouth to say something, only to close it just as quickly. Why bother?

One more week and she could shirk this responsibility. Not very becoming of a Head Girl, really, but the sound of a pair of confused laughs really dulled her sense of care.

oOo

Those first few weeks of school tend to really fly by. For people like Marion - people that tend to find just a little too much enjoyment in purchasing different colored ink or stacking new, unread textbooks on top of one another according to class schedules - it's the weeks _before_ new school years that tend to be the more drawn-out, agonizing weeks.

The same thing happened every year. By the spring semester, she usually began her steady decline into mental exhaustion. Reading, both assigned and leisurely, would slowly become unappealing. Essay writing and exam preparations would take more effort to start and would be left to almost last minute circumstances. Extracurriculars would begin to feel more like chores. It's times like those that made her doubt the Sorting Hat's ability. Ravenclaw?

 _Ravenclaw in the fall_ , she would imagine the hat grumbling on top of her head. _Perhaps something different in the spring_. She wished that damn hat could've taken account for the future exasperation she would feel having to always answer a riddle to get into her own bed at night. _Yes, new season, new house...which is the laziest?_

But she would always regain her sense of self over a languid summer break and by those few weeks before a new term, she would be absolutely restless. Any assumptions that she was 51% Ravenclaw and 49% Gryffindor/Slytherin/Hufflepuff flew out the window. She was usually ready to take on the new semester with a renewed, sometimes vicious, fervor by the beginning of August. She had to admit, she didn't like being out of school for very long.

Which is why this particular year was turning out to be bittersweet no matter how great it should turn out to be purely based on her good fortune and hard work. But this year was her last and it was going by way too quickly. Isn't time supposed to go by slower when you're paying attention?

"All right, Marion?" She looked up from the pages of alchemical symbols she'd yet to learn thanks to her existential crisis.

"Fine." She widened her eyes as if to wake up from a daze before smiling at her counterpart, hoping his attention would waver and land on something else. Like his own responsibilities as Head Boy.

Marion was never the biggest fan of James Potter. It was mildly confusing how he'd even reeled in a title equivalent to her own. His own friend, Remus Lupin, seemed more the type. Honestly, the boy couldn't even be bothered with properly fixing his hair.

"Quite the show the other night." He smirked. "Fancied a dip in the Great Lake?"

"Does it look like any of my limbs have been stolen by the Giant Squid? Am I an apparition come up from my murky grave amongst the merpeople to study _one last time_?" She replied, only half committed to expressing the spite she felt.

"Are you missing a leg?" He feigned shock, quickly ducking his head under the table she was seated at. Needless to say, she jerked her legs off to the side as if he had had any interest in sneaking a peak up her skirt. It wasn't a mystery in any dimension that he'd been harboring the most intense of crushes on Lily Evans since, I don't know, _birth_.

"Don't look! I've yet to accept my prosthetic leg."

"Should've gone with a wooden peg. It would've given you a little more...grit." Even he looked confused at his choice of word, looking off to the side before continuing. "Look, could I ask you a favor?"

"Depends on what it is." She almost felt thankful that he'd come along and woken her up. Once the word 'favor' left his mouth, all she could care about were the various types of elemental amalgamations.

"Because you and I are best mates," He began.

 _Kill me, please._

"And best mates d-"

"What do you want?" She cut him off abruptly.

"I will take on the remainder of our nightly checks, in entirety, if you take my half tonight." He quickly proposed, already on the defensive. He'd had to have known he was going to have to bargain and not make a one-sided offer. He wasn't stupid.

"That's 2, doubled over, in exchange for 1 in full. What's the deal?" She asked. It was a good offer, but she'd need a reason. Something to keep her mind from wandering into a territory wherein she loathed his entire being whenever she got bored.

"I have business to take care of at the Astronomy Tower."

Lily Evans has Astronomy tonight.

oOo

That night, she'd taken extra precaution not to run into any higher ups more than once. Letting someone shirk their responsibility onto you and then carrying out said responsibility with your head hung low surely wasn't excusable. Not in her position. Especially because her honest response to 'why' would be 'in the name of love'.

Well, maybe not that dramatic, but 'love' nonetheless.

Her time meandering the castle would be increased twofold tonight. She'd be patrolling well after 10 p.m. when _everyone_ should already be tucked away into their dorms. So, by 10:15, she was ready to show little to no mercy to those caught out of line.

She can't really say why she was so surprised that she should run into Sirius Black on the seventh floor, her last for the night and usually James' responsibility. He probably hadn't observed the curfew all year.

"Honestly." She said to the now wide-eyed boy.

"What?" His mouth was half full with whatever he had just finished eating. "I was hungry. You can't expect me to go to bed hungry."

"I-" She knew her attempts would be futile. She knew Sirius Black because she knew James Potter. Sure, they were different in many ways, but they had eerily similar manners of speaking - especially when it came to defiant speech. In that sense, they were almost one in the same. "Just...go." She waved her hands in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

 _No witnesses, no crime_. She thought to herself. She began to wonder if that's what he would've said if she had threatened any disciplinary actions.

He smiled, his shoulders dropping into a relaxed state.

"You'd make such a cool teacher." He leaned back against a corner. "You know the ones that don't give you a detention when you're a couple of minutes late to class."

"By standard definition, a 'couple' means 2. By your definition, a 'couple' means 15." She began to turn on her heel. "This is the last time."

That could refer to anything. It was also the wrong thing to say. Telling someone like Sirius Black or James Potter that 'this is the last time' was usually an open invitation for a repeat offense. To those that purposefully flow against the tide, words are sometimes meaningless.

She would make a _horrible_ teacher.

"Good night!" He called out after her to which she raised a hand in response.

 **A/N: I own my character(s). I own my plot. Everything else? Not so much. This will probably be the only note I'll write for the remainder of this story unless needed. So, hi, hello, welcome. Enjoy your stay for the next 6-8 chapters.**


	2. Innumerable Ones

"Have you thought about who you're going to invite?" Lavinia, roommate and Potions partner, asked her with such a carefree tone that she knew her next sentence would be along the lines of 'I'm going with -insert name here-'.

"Not really." She fingered a bundle of wormwood, eyeballing the measurement they would need for their drought instead of taking the words printed in their textbooks as gospel.

"I'm going with Tom." She said. Marion looked up to see her partner looking over her shoulder at a conventionally handsome Gryffindor seated in the middle of the room, squinting at his textbook, completely unaware of his prospective date's stare.

"That's nice." She made sure to acknowledge her partner's conversation so as not to come off as dismissive, choosing the safest response. 'Congratulations' would have been too frigid or sarcastic; 'You're so lucky' would've sounded desperate.

"Yeah...are you sure that's enough?" She looked down at the wormwood in Marion's hands.

"There's a reason Slughorn invited us to this party." She replied placing the sprigs into their cauldron, causing the drought to turn a sickly shade of dark-almost black-green. The exact shade it should have been

"Exquisite." The rotund man made his way to their workspace and peered into their cauldron. "Really, just-"

 _Just_ then, a soft pop followed by a bout of stifled laughter and hushed reprimands came from the back of the room causing a majority of the classroom to shift their attention.

"You git, you weren't supposed to add that yet."

"You weren't supposed to add that at all."

"Says who?"

"Says the textbook."

The four Gryffindor boys squabbled in the back. Partially arguing, partially laughing at each other. Potter, Pettigrew, Black, and Lupin. Forever.

In the ensuing drone of hushed whispers, laughter, and Slughorn's underhanded insults, Lavinia redirected her attention back to their conversation.

"You know, I was going to suggest you ask one of them."

"Surely not." She scoffed.

"The level-headed one, though." Lavinia continued, lowering the heat and leaving their potion to simmer.

The two girls looked at each other before slowly looking back. The four boys were now staring intently at Slughorn, the corners of their mouths beginning to tremble and their noses twitching. But Lavinia was referring to the tallest one flanking the left end. Out of the 4, he was the only one who showed at least a miniscule amount of remorse. He was also the first to take full notice of the violet haze that began to creep out of the cauldron and into the air.

She almost let Lavinia's poking and prodding influence her to the point of lingering around after the entire class had to be let out, mentally duking it out with herself about whether or not she should ask Remus if he would like to accompany her to this party.

"You should," Lavinia was saying under her breath while the two began pulling on all the necessary accessories to make it across the cold grounds to their next class. "Hon-" She continued before getting cut off.

"Marion?" She looked up from her bag. "I just wanted to say thank you...for last night." He said it with absolute sincerity.

"No problem." She began to wrap her scarf around her neck slowly, noticing the rest of them beginning to filter up behind James, Sirius being the first to clamber up just beside him, lowering his chin onto James' right shoulder and smiling.

"Have fun patrolling the castle tonight." She said, gathering up the rest of her belongings. "And tomorrow night." She then glanced down at the enamel pin they both had to wear proclaiming their status before walking off with Lavinia.

" _Thank you for last night_?" Lavinia repeated once they were at least a good 10 steps in front of the quartet.

"I took over his half of our walkthrough last night. It was just a favor."

"And?"

"And now he has to do the same for me."

oOo

She ended up never asking anyone to accompany her to Slughorn's party.

"Should I wear it all up, half down, or all down?" Lavinia asked, letting sections of her hair fall with each vocalized option. She'd given up asking Marion about her plans for the party weeks ago, unsatisfied with variations of the same answer: _I haven't really thought about it._

"You should probably wear it up." She'd been sitting on Lavinia's bed, fidgeting with the front of her dress that seemed to slack only when she sat. "You start to look a little...triangular with the fur and all."

Lavinia squinted at her for a beat before Marion took the initiative to place the fur wrap she was planning to wear on her shoulders, causing her hair to flare out at the end.

"Up it is."

She couldn't help but feel a little nervous accompanying Lavinia and her date to the party, even if said date was left to walk alongside the two who had hooked arms the second they left the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower and hadn't let go until Marion _insisted_ she'd be fine.

Which she was going to be. Much to her relief, it was unabashedly hard to pinpoint couples in the throng of guests. No one even really seemed to stay with their 'dates', that is, unless they were actually dating outside of this particular evening.

Every other face she noticed from the smaller group gatherings she'd attended in the past 2 years. 2 years of facing one another, talking amongst each other about what they'd done now or what they planned to do. Slughorn sat in the center encouraging the conversations of lofty goals, impressive feats and well-oiled connections. A dragon poring over its gold.

But this was something altogether different. The group had increased to almost four times as many on a regular occasion. Current members. Past members. Prospective members hoping to be added to Slughorn's menagerie. Writers for _The Daily Prophet_ , authors, social climbers, those that worked their way up the ranks at the Ministry. An orgy of excellence.

She mingled for a while, exchanging niceties with familiar faces until taking a liking to a writer currently researching the effects of muggles attempting to contact spirits and whether or not any responded. For fun or by force. But once the conversation wavered, she was ready to leave.

She slowly disassociated herself, creeping further and further away from the various groups of people dispersed throughout the room until she was able to exit the party altogether.

From warm and gold to blue and cold.

The corridor just outside the party ended abruptly on one side and extended on the other with the nearest lit sconce a handful of metres away. Most of the light came from the moon, a couple of days away from being full, but shining with all the capability of its final form. Those were the best nights, when the sky was clear enough to allow what is usually cast in shadow to be illuminated in a beautiful, clear glow.

"Pretty, isn't it?" She blinked away from the tall windows toward the sound of the person speaking to her.

"Very much so." She replied, setting down the glass of punch she had been carrying all night and neglected to leave in the room she just left.

"Want any?" Sirius Black held out a silver flask in her direction.

"What is it?"

"Happiness." He said, tilting his head to one side and smiling. "It's just Firewhisky."

"Sure." She furrowed her brows for a split second before picking up and holding the glass of punch in his direction.

"Really?" His eyes were wide with amazement.

"Yes, really." It really shouldn't be that shocking.

"No, I mean you won't take it straight?" He laughed lightly.

"Oh no." She scrunched up her nose and imagined how fiery, yet cold, the liquid seemed to feel going down. "It really lives up to its name, doesn't it?"

"Fair enough, but I'm not to blame if it tastes even worse with whatever that is." He said, pouring a shot's worth of Firewhisky into the punch, causing it to turn an amber shade.

It really didn't mix well.

"Nope, that's horrible." Something that seems to burn when going down does nothing to enhance the flavor of something that was frankly citrus to begin with. "A close cousin of bile."

He took the glass from her hand and took a sip before pulling a face akin to someone that had just downed a straight shot of lemon juice.

"Why would you do that?" She almost took a seat next to him, but stopped herself when she remembered her temperamental dress.

"Curiosity." He said before taking a drink from his flask. "And impulse."

"Curiosity I understand, but impulse? Even after I told you it tasted like actual sick?" He began to laugh.

"Who knows? Maybe it's fallout." He straightened out from his previous lax pose. "If I had been with James or Remus or Peter, I would've already been dared to down the whole thing the second you said it was horrible...and I would've done it."

"For a laugh?"

"For a laugh." He confirmed looking up at her. "Why don't you sit? I'm sure you're tired of standing around in those contraptions you girls insist on wearing to fancy dress parties like these." He motioned back towards the room she emerged from.

The same room he must have emerged from if he was here in the first place. Had he been invited by Slughorn? That last name of his had some pretty hefty notoriety attached to it, something only his younger brother seemed to embrace. Or had he been invited by a guest?

"No, I'm actually about to head back." She motioned down the corridor, interrupting her own thoughts.

"Same, let me walk you." He sprung up to his feet and held out an arm, which she was frightened into taking because of his abrupt movements. Similar to the way you flinch and duck if something is hurling your way.

"So, I would think you'd be better at mixing considering your track record in Potions." He said, offering her the flask once more with his free hand.

"Not quite the same thing." She declined before stopping, hoping he would lose grip on her arm without making it seem too obvious. "I would think you'd be better at Potions considering your prediction when it came to that drink."

"Not quite the same thing." He mimicked her tone. "And I'm not a complete failure when it comes to Potions. I wasn't even 100% responsible for what happened the other day."

"No one ever said it was you, but now I know it could've been anywhere from 0 to 99% of your doing." They paused before the first set of staircases for the night.

"I'm all the way out near the west tower." She said, ready to turn in a different direction from the one she knew he'd have to head off toward.

"You're just as far away as I am high up." He did have to head all the way up to the seventh floor. "It really doesn't make a difference. I've been meaning to ask you something anyway." He began, following her.

She raised her eyebrows signaling him to ask. Walking up the stairs in the shoes she was wearing had caused her to put in extra effort. She'd probably sound desperately out of breath if she had spoken.

"I was wondering if you would help me out with Potions." He said almost timidly.

"Why not ask Remus?" She asked quickly. Not to be snippy, but that's all she could get out on an exhale. "He seems like the apt one in that lot."

"You saw what happened the other day." He immediately shot back. "I can't work with a friend. At least not seriously."

"We can't trade partners, if that's what you're asking." She paused.

"I'm not. Is this it?" He motioned toward the winding staircase to her common room.

"Yeah," She looked back at the whitened stone that made up the stairs and surrounding walls. "But listen, I can tutor you if you want, you'd just have to let me know in advance when you're ready." She absentmindedly began to climb the stairs.

"Of course." He followed her still. "I've always wondered what this place really looked like."

"Well, it's not like you can really come in." She said once they'd reached the large wooden door outfitted in ornamental bronze, a sizable knocker in the shape of an eagle in the center sensing someone was ready to come inside.

"Many have heard me, but no one has seen me, and I will not speak back until spoken to. What am I?" It bellowed out.

Sirius scoffed.

"Surely you don't have to do this every time you feel like coming back for the night?" He marveled behind her. "What if you left the room in a hurry, forgot something, and had to go back in? You'd still have to answer a riddle each time?"

"Incorrect." The knocker proclaimed.

"Yes, now would you please just go before _I_ get locked out." She shooed him away, waiting for the eagle to finish repeating its riddle.

"Fine, fine. As you wish." He stepped back.

"An echo." She said, a series of clicks resounding through the air as the door began to open. "Like I said, whenever you're ready." She referred to their previous agreement.

He took a step forward, only catching a glimpse of the Ravenclaw common room before the door slammed shut again.


	3. Stray Dogs

"We are here in the good graces of Professor Slughorn, so could you please not mess around?" She lightly scolded the boy next to her.

It was already half past 6 and it felt like they had gotten nothing accomplished.

"I'm going to be frank with you." He said, looking at her with a mildly annoyed expression creeping up on his haughty features. "I don't give a shit about Potions."

"Then why did you ask me to help you?" She stopped what she was doing altogether.

"For the very reason I just gave." He replied, straightening out. Pretty tall when he isn't slouching. "I also might have been mildly drunk when I asked." He smirked.

"Well I can't help you if you can't meet me there halfway. I can't take your N.E.W.T.s for you at the end of the year." She then sat down.

"Clever. This is why I love you Ravenclaw girls." He sat down next to her and looked her dead in the eyes.

"What does being a girl have anything to do with it?" She propped her head on her hand.

"How long would it take to brew a Polyjuice potion?" He ignored her question.

"About a month." She answered. She couldn't help herself. "And Sirius, if you _truly_ didn't know that by now, we have bigger problems to deal with."

"I have time." He shrugged before looking back towards the clock mounted on the wall. "Well, maybe not right now, but I will. Tomorrow?"

She stared up at his now standing figure for a couple of seconds before agreeing.

"Thanks!" He grinned, a little too enthusiastically and playfully slapped her shoulder before bolting out of the classroom. She looked out in front of her, at her invisible audience, hoping to find someone to agree that even for him, that was a little too audacious.

"But tomorrow is Saturday." She wondered aloud. Maybe she was the one being a little too enthusiastic. She could either invest her time and wait around all day tomorrow or she could act like she herself forgot and not show up...assuming he'd do the same.

She'd secretly hoped she'd run into him somewhere in the halls to clear up the matter, but he was long gone before she left the room. He and his cohorts were also nowhere to be found by dinnertime. There was never any incentive for her to pay attention to any of their habits, so they very well could be keeping irregular schedules. It at least seemed extremely likely for Sirius.

 _Forever subversive_ , she thought, continuously pushing food around her plate until dinner was over. Once everyone began going their separate ways to enjoy the eve of the weekend, she decided to head back to Ravenclaw Tower, the next day occupying every other thought. She chose a window seat away from the warmth of the fireplace, already intensely burning as if it were snowing outside, and began to identify constellations on the domed ceiling, hoping to think of something else. Anything else.

There was Andromeda. Sacrificed for the vanity of her own mother, but saved in the end.

The seven daughters of Atlas not too far away, clustered within Taurus and partially obscured by sapphire hangings. She couldn't place which sister had been shafted.

Betelgeuse. Forever burning bright within Orion's belt, undoubtedly fated to eventually burn out. To collapse under its own weight.

But never fear, there was still one more constellation in her sight that harbored a star that could burn just as bright, if not brighter. Sirius.

Sirius...harbinger of unbearably hot weather.

She snorted, quickly turning her head away from any possible stares. Looking out the window, all she could really see was the full moon. Actual stars were being shrouded in heavy clouds. It was when she began scoping out what she had seen on the ceiling with enough fervor that almost booted her off her seat and toward the nearest telescope that she had to stop herself. _Why?_

It was simple, really. She mentally flipped through her rolodex of feelings and settled on the one she felt was most plausible.

She _cared._

Pretty weak. Not in the physical sense, i.e. weak in the knees, but in a different way. Weak in the sense that now she had something else to interrupt her daily life and she was going to let it happen. She could very well not dwell on anything concerning Sirius Black. She could even claim to be too busy to even deal with him. Push him back into the background from which he emerged.

 _Out of the goodness of my own heart_ , she thought to herself, feeling all too satisfied. Satisfied enough to fall asleep without a hitch and to wake in the morning feeling a little too chipper.

"Are you all right?" Lavinia asked, lowering her forkful of food back down onto her plate.

"Perfectly fine." She replied, looking at her with widened eyes that denoted anything but her claim.

"Right..." Lavinia's expression shifted from concern to amusement to confusion.

"What?" She spoke a little too shrilly, unaware that two tables over, Remus Lupin was expressing an equal amount of irritability for 2 reasons. The first being the absolute fatigue he'd felt from last night's transformation. The second being in response to Peter and Sirius scheming to cast a cracker jinx to scare a sleeping James awake. That irritability would wane quick enough considering, like Remus, neither boy had slept the night before and probably couldn't even coax a glass of pumpkin juice to slide their way.


	4. Fabulous Ones

_Dearest Marion,_

 _It is with great sadness that I inform you that I will not be able to attend another tantalizing evening filled with bewitching brews tonight. I know our sporadic meetings mean the world to you, so I feel it's my duty to inform you that this decision has nothing to do with you or your tutelage. It's me. And unforeseen circumstances._

 _It's also Saturday._

 _Monday, perhaps?_

"Warmest regards, Sirius Black." She rolled her eyes and tossed the note onto her bed before rummaging through her clothes to find something that would accommodate the polarizing weather that would undoubtedly make another appearance that day.

Lavinia quickly intercepted the note, unfolding and scrutinizing it as if she were going to be tested over its content in a mere matter of minutes. "So...congenial." She sat on the edge of Marion's bed now, still looking over the handful of sentences.

"So overdramatic." Marion quipped, throwing a thick black scarf on the other side of Lavinia.

"There's nothing wrong with a little flair here and there." She refolded the note. "Imagine being married to that...hell of a life that would be, don't you think? He seems like the type that would act like he's forgotten your anniversary, but would then surprise you with an over-the-top gift at the very last minute." Marion could feel Lavinia's eyes boring into her with every word. Lavinia wasn't a true silly heart…a slight daydreamer, perhaps, with a taste for instigative remarks. She was probably keeping her eyes peeled for even the slightest indication of blush on her person.

"Wow, Lavinia, it's good to know all about your fantasies. Thanks for sharing."

"No problem." Lavinia backed off and walked over to her own bed. "Sounds fun, though, right? But there's probably a caveat or two waiting in the shadows…imagine that family of his." They both snorted.

It was no secret amongst wizarding families where the loyalties of the Black family lay. Their ideologies were something entirely familiar with anyone who cared to listen, especially now given the current state of affairs…this increasingly deadly infatuation with superiority. Marion could sometimes pinpoint it in Regulus Black, whom she'd brushed shoulders with at Slug Club and prefect meetings. Inherently quiet but saddled with an air of superiority. A true representation of his given name: another fiercely bright star; literally a little king. Their mother must love them.

But she couldn't really see it in Sirius. He and his brother only seemed to share a surname, pedigree, and a patrician beauty that suited Regulus more than Sirius...the latter being fond of over-exaggerated, sometimes ugly, facial expressions. He could very well be devoid of the generally disagreeable attributes attached to his surname...or he could just be very good at hiding it.

 _So good he weaseled his way into Gryffindor,_ she thought to herself, grabbing the scarf she had thrown onto her bed before accompanying Lavinia for a last minute visit to Hogsmeade.

The sun was already threatening to set by the time Marion and Lavinia descended upon the village. Candles hanging in the trees were already beginning to flicker on denoting the fast-approaching holiday season. Overall strange looking in the absence of snow. Despite the fast-approaching darkness, the village was busier than usual.

"Looks like we're all here for the same reason." Lavinia sniffed, looking around as if devising a battle plan. "What were you thinking of getting?" She could practically see the cogs turning in Lavinia's head.

"Well, I don't think I'll really find it here." Marion began looking around in the same manner. "But if I do, it'll probably be in a bookshop?"

"Perfect. That's exactly where I needed to go!" As if a checked flag had been waved, Lavinia immediately took off with Marion in tow to the nearest bookshop wherein both decelerated once inside.

"Last year it was opera. The year before it was ballet." Marion began, dragging her finger along spines of books, reading every title in vain. "Now it's two-dimensional art...paintings." She was referring to her mother and her ongoing love of the muggle cultural sphere. Something she'd adopted in the short years following the death of her husband. In a selfish race to complete tasks in a timely manner, Marion would usually communicate her ideas for gifts to her older sister who would then head out and make the purchase for her. But the routine began feeling impersonal and she vied to at least pick something out on her own.

"I'm sure they have something here." Lavinia flipped through a tome of a book before looking up.

"Yeah...but I think she'd prefer if the paintings didn't move." The two spent the next hour meandering through the towering stacks to no avail and were met with a completely darkened sky once they emerged from the bookshop.

"I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks." Lavinia had opted out of the last stop Marion had to make that evening in pursuit of gifts. "Good luck!" She called out to her after she hastily made her way away from the small storefront with the perpetually steamed up windows.

 _It won't take too long_. She thought, grasping the clammy doorknob of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. She could hear the dull roar of conversation and clinking china that waited on the other side, but all she could focus on was the pulse of her own heartbeat that had traveled all the way up to her head.

She was never fond of crowds.

So it only makes sense that she immediately wanted to leave the second she crossed the threshold into the perpetually crowded space, interrupting all these lovely dates with her singleness. As if anyone cared. There wasn't a single pair of eyes that weren't fluttering closed or drifting away from their own partner's unwavering gaze. Unlike everyone else, she couldn't pick a spot to focus her eyes on to save her life.

Half the battle had been fought making her way to a counter, desperately trying not to bump anyone's coat off their chair or, heaven's forbid, knock anyone's tea over. But the second half dauntingly awaited her once she had to throw in handling the elaborate package of flowering tea her mother had a liking for into the mix.

With a permanent, almost painful smile, she twisted and ducked through the tables once again. Whispering 'sorry' upon deaf ears whenever she happened to brush against someone or something…slightly wheezing with suppressed laughter when she began to approach Lily Evans who looked at her with pleading eyes once she had recognized her face.

She looked back at her with a sorry expression before looking at James.

 _Of all places, you bring her here?_ , she thought as if she could telepathically communicate with him. No such luck considering the dazed look he maintained.

No doubt this was a plan devised by him and his coquet of a best friend. It was cute, it was generic, and it was a safe choice. An especially safe one considering the looks of cute blonde Hufflepuff Sirius had brought along to this affair.

 _Such a schmoozer,_ she thought once she began to slip past the two pairs. However, unlike James, Sirius did leer at her as if he could hear what she had just thought. She began to roll her eyes, waving goodbye before clearing one last table on her way out.

Now it was off to the Three Broomsticks to meet back up with Lavinia to enjoy the babbling brook of gossip that was Rosmerta. But not before stopping at another shop for a long stretch of canvas and an array of oil paints that she had now decided to use to make her mother's gift.

oOo

She was on even more of a time crunch now that she added fine art production to her laundry list of things to do. She had chosen to delegate time for the painting to the weekends, taking time observing her subject on Friday nights…usually after the hour she spent with Sirius. An hour she dedicated to him out of the goodness of her own heart…and out of the goodness of her own heart, she dealt with countless flukes.

Flukes that sometimes looked like they could rise out of the cauldron, pull up a chair, and start a conversation with the both of them as if they had been close friends for years and years.

"What color should it be now?" She absentmindedly folded the corners of each page in her notebook, feeling more impatient than usual.

He sighed and leaned back, stretching his legs out straight under the table before lazily looking over to her. "Blue."

"Why?"

"Blue's the color of tranquility, is it not?"

"Help me, gods." She murmured into the space now created between her folded arms and the rest of her body.

Silence permeated the room for a beat until he spoke again.

"Fine. It'll turn green once the moonstone has been sufficiently added; _blue_ once stirred properly and then purple. Pink when it's done simmering. _Turquoise_ when syrup of hellebore has been added and purple once mixed. _Red_ with enough powdered porcupine quills; orange when stirred and back to turquoise and then to purple. _Pink_ after the powdered unicorn horn then red then purple then grey with more moonstone then orange. And finally, _white_." He whispered his last word, placing emphasis on the t, before taking a deep breath.

She shifted her head, taking in the sight of his long fingers raise out of order, tapping down in the same fashion. He'd been feigning his cluelessness. "You insolent little monster."

His fingers froze for a second before delicately dragging away off the edge of the table. In a blink, he'd lowered himself to her level. "Beautiful wasn't it?"

She opened her mouth to speak before he cut back in. "No, _breath-taking._ " His eyes widened with his last words.

"Why am I here?" She made the rash decision of speaking what had immediately popped into her head. The corners of his mouth turned down slightly and he shrugged. "Why are you wasting my time?" She said through gritted teeth, slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand once he began to snicker like the first year she caught launching Dungbombs into crowded hallways earlier that week.

"I'm sorry!" He said, shaking with withheld laughter and holding his shoulder. Her nostrils flared in an attempt not to laugh herself. Not because she found it funny, but because she found his to be so infectious. "Listen, I really did need your help! Remember that mishap with the doxy eggs?" He added once she began to gather her stuff in a huff.

She recalled the rather foul mishap all the while wondering if that were an act as well.

"That was real." He answered her question.

"Okay, but this." She motioned wildly all around her. "This is over." She felt a pang of regret when she saw his grin fade into a knowing, close-lipped smile. "I mean-"

"It's fine." He interrupted, his hand slightly raising as if he were going to physically silence her with it. "I know this was yet another thing you had to worry about and I think it's safe to say that we both know I won't need you every Friday evening. You must have some confidence in me, after all, judging by your choice tonight." He was referring to the tedious drought they never got to make.

"Well..." In actuality, she chose it to make his night difficult. To underhandedly overwhelm him. And it had backfired. "I - sure." She shrugged and began to make her way out of the room.

His smile dropped and his eyes narrowed at her.

"If you sincerely want me to help you with anything else..." She said in her best generic, pleasant tone and hurried toward the door, turning back only to see if he had heard her.

"I will." She felt a jolt go through her, a feeling similar to the one you get when you miss a step going down the stairs. He'd already made it to the doorway and was leaning on its frame, holding out a quill she had left behind.

"Thanks!" She spoke with an over exaggerated tone, reaching out for the object delicately swinging between his thumb and index finger, stopping short before attempting to grab it. She also had an older brother and she knew how stunts like this usually panned out. She wasn't about to get faked out by Sirius Black. She snatched her quill from his fingers once he was thrown off beat. "Like I said, _anytime_."

 **A/N: Excuse my absence~.**


End file.
